


Taboo

by Novaspark



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-08-19 04:57:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novaspark/pseuds/Novaspark
Summary: On Velocitron, Knock Out lives a life of extravagance as the favourite surgeon of their planet's ruler. Money and fame, it's all Knock Out ever wanted. But something unattainable is missing. With a new bot forced into his life, Knock Out's values will be tested against his own happiness...





	1. Wicked Games

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [TF_Flash_Challenge](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TF_Flash_Challenge) collection. 



> This story focuses on IDW "Til All Are One" Knock Out's life on Velocitron and how he meets Breakdown. The POV will be shifted between him and Moonracer. 
> 
> Because this story is being applied to the "October Transformers Flash Fanfiction" each chapter will only be 500 words exactly. To meet the first week's requirements, I am fulfilling 'the first moment' prompt and to a lesser extent 'a cold room'. If you would like to join the Challenge, there is still time!
> 
> For a longer story involving Knock Out and Breakdown, I am also currently writing my main story, Recon, set in the Transformers Prime universe. :)

Moonracer waited silently at the door, servos folded over one another. She studied him carefully.

Knock Out stood, quiet himself, helm resting on his arm against the window, looking out at the cityscape of early morning Delta below. Usually, he would be admiring his own reflection, but instead he looked lost in thought, the stormy rainclouds outside a mirror of what he must feel within.

As they waited in his surgeon’s office, the only sounds were the pattering rain against the window and the soft back and forth tapping of a momentum cradle toy on his desk.

The door _wooshed_ open and Override strode in. She represented all that their society believed was beauty; the perfect slender build to be the fastest Velocitronian of all. 

She tossed a datascroll onto the desk.

“Read this.” She was frighteningly curt.

Knock Out was playing a dangerous game saying, “ _Really_ , it’s not as bad-”

“Moonracer,” Override rested a servo on her hip, “Knock Out has apparently forgotten how to read. Oblige him.”

Moonracer crossed the room and picked up the datascroll.

“‘Another DUI for Override’s Star Surgeon’,” she read. This was no surprise. “Clocked well over the speed limit, reports say Knock Out crashed into two storefronts damaging...”

“You’re an embarrassment to my campaign,” Override spat. “You could’ve _killed_ a bot.”

Knock Out rolled his optics. “Give me a break! I _promise_ I’ll be on my best behaviour tonight-”

“Tonight’s party is exactly why I am assigning you a bodyguard,” Override retorted.

Knock Out’s indifference snapped. “A _bodyguard?_ ” he gaped. “Like a _nanny?!_ ”

But she ignored him and opened the door. A mech walked in. 

If Override was all that was beautiful on Velocitron, this mech was the complete opposite. His faceplate was handsome, but any other bot in their world would just see a heavy bot with a large chassis slowing him down. Slow meant crippled. Crippled meant he was worth nothing. The injustice incensed Moonracer.

“His name is Breakdown,” Override said. “He’s to go _everywhere_ you go.”

Knock Out was flustering but no words came out. Moonracer fought to stifle her giggles. 

Override turned to Breakdown. “Don’t be afraid to smack the drinks out of his sloppy servos. You answer only to me... and sometimes _her_ ,” she pointed to Moonracer who startled. “If _this_ ,” and Override picked up the datascroll, “ever happens again, I will be searching for a new star surgeon.” 

With Override gone, the room was still. But the tension, Moonracer could feel it seeping from Knock Out as his fury festered within.

He was intensely focused on Breakdown. A strange contorted expression on his faceplate. 

Saying nothing, Knock Out selected an expensive bottle of hi-grade and seated himself comfortably in his desk chair.

From the bottle, he poured himself a glass, sipping slowly. He did not break his threatening gaze from his new bodyguard, already tempting him to ‘smack that drink out of his sloppy servos’. 

Moonracer withdrew from the room, hiding her smile. Everything was in motion.


	2. Status Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night of the party and Knock Out adjusts to his new 'shadow'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the likes and comments. :) This chapter does not follow any prompts for the Challenge. The next chapter will follow one of week two's prompts and will be updated sometime next week.

The kiss meant nothing. Because the entire time his mouthplate pressed against the mech’s, Knock Out’s attention was diverted. Through the music, the lights and his slightly inebriated vision, he stared straight at Breakdown. 

Who was too busy chatting with Moonracer to notice. Even so, Knock Out knew each drink was being carefully tallied.

He broke the kiss and downed the rest of the drink, an attempt to wash it away. 

“So, after the party, did you wanna do your place-” the racecar began to say, but Knock Out gave him no second glance. Instead, he motioned to the bartender to pass him another hi-grade.

The tension was crawling within, so with strength-in-liquid-form in hand, Knock Out crashed the pair.

“My audials are tingling, you must be talking about me.” Knock Out’s vocaliser lacked sincerity.

“Actually, yes,” Moonracer said, smiling. “Breakdown was just telling me how you raced off ahead, leaving him behind.”

Knock Out swigged half his drink. “Not my fault he can’t keep up.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Breakdown said evenly.

Knock Out slid him a look, soaking in up close just how massive Breakdown was- at _least_ a helm taller, his broad chassis right in Knock Out’s faceplate. His claws chipped his glass.

“I hope you’re enjoying the party while you can,” Knock Out sneered. “I can’t imagine a bot like you has ever seen so many beautiful bots in one place, other than whatever seat you can afford at the races.”

Breakdown said nothing. Moonracer glared.

Aggravated and outnumbered, Knock Out turned on his pedes. Everything was compounded all around him, he had to get out of this place to recompose. Knock Out sped towards the back door, snatching an entire bottle of hi-grade from the bar as he passed.

The cool air hit him instantly. This small taste of freedom made him itch to transform and just drive off without looking back. He did not stop drinking until the door opened. 

“Frag!” Knock Out startled. “Don’t I get to piss in private?”

It was Breakdown. “I thought you came out here to get away from me.”

“You flatter yourself,” Knock Out retorted and began to finish off the bottle.

Breakdown watched. “You know, I thought you were going to be more of a party-bot but all I’ve seen you do is kiss a lot of mechs and binge.”

“Lucky you.” Knock Out was highly aware the step they were on barely fit them both.

“And everybot in the room,” Breakdown added. 

“All attention on me,” Knock Out returned, smug.

Breakdown crossed his arms. “Not out here.”

Knock Out faltered. “Frag off.”

Aware he was being purposely distracted, Knock Out finished the rest of the bottle out of spite. Instantly, regret struck. Frag, what percent strength was this bottle? He struggled to hold onto the railing but he was already stumbling backwards.

“Hey!” Breakdown alarmed, reaching out. 

The last thing Knock Out really remembered was Breakdown saying “...Transform into your alt…” as he succumbed to darkness.


	3. Magical Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knock Out awakens after the party and what follows is unlike anything he's experienced before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to condense Knock Out's name into one word. In the comics, the official spelling is two words, but I have seen his name spelt one word in other official sources. Because this is a word limit challenge, I decided to use the one word spelling from here on to save myself extra words to write with. 
> 
> This chapter fulfils week two's prompt 'magical touch' and to a lesser extent, the quote prompt "“Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.” - Charles Bukowski".

Knockout groaned, servo reaching for his pounding helm. 

“What..?” As his vision came to him, Knockout realised he was laying on his sette back at his penthouse suite. It was still night, but what hour, he did not know.

“I towed you home.”

It was his new bodyguard, Breakdown. “Gotcha to transform to your alt, though you weren’t very coherent.”

“Override’s going to fire you!” Knockout coughed as he attempted to sit himself up. 

“Who said you can’t get drunk?” Breakdown smirked. “I just can’t let you make a spectacle of yourself.”

Knockout surprised even himself by laughing. 

“But you do drink a lot,” Breakdown added.

Of course Knockout knew he drank heavily. He did it on purpose, after all. 

“My finish!!” Concern hit him like a bolt and Knockout shot to his pedes, fleeing to the nearest mirror. He gripped it in dismay at the sight of all the scratches marring his flawless frame. “My _beautiful_ finish!! _Ruined!_ ”

“You took a tumble down some stairs,” Breakdown said. Knockout was affronted by just how nonchalant he sounded.

“Why didn’t you catch me?!” he hissed. “Do you know how _long_ it takes maintain this gloss!?”

Without waiting for a response, he raced down the hall to retrieve his favourite buffer from his cleaning room. Muttering, Knockout began buffing himself all over, but strained with difficulty in reaching his back.

Breakdown followed, keeping a respectable distance. “Need help?”

Knockout’s spark skipped a pulse. Apprehension filled him, he could feel it in the numbness of his digits and the dryness of his glossa. It was like his processor shut down his functions.

Knockout kept his back turned. “Fine.”

His entire frame tensed as he waited for the first touch... 

Instantly, every strut in his frame relaxed. Breakdown glided the tool gently over Knockout’s shoulder plating. It was _pure pampered bliss_.

He couldn’t even stifle a satisfied sigh. Relinquishing the moment to the experience, Knockout completely lost himself in the rare emotions surfacing. This was better than hi-grade.

Abruptly, he realised time was passing. 

“That’s enough.” Knockout’s vocaliser wavered. “I’m retiring for the night.”

He didn’t care what Breakdown did. If he went home, slept on the bench or stood outside his door the whole night. 

“Don’t forget to drink some energon for your hangover,” Breakdown called.

Knockout hesitated, but then silently retreated.

In the solitude of his own room, Knockout sat on the edge of his extravagant berth, staring at the floor. He was venting air heavily, his spark quickened and his helm ran laps. It was difficult to tell what was from drinking and what was from what just happened.

He pulled open the drawer of his nightstand and withdrew datascrolls. He flicked one on and scrolled through images of heavily built mechs in attractive positions. Built just like his bodyguard. Built just like how he was supposed to abhor.

Flushed, drunk and shamed, Knockout stored them away and instead lay awake for hours, reliving the secret memory of Breakdown’s magical touch.


	4. Metal Attraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moonracer gleams more about what's happened in the past week. Has Knockout changed any? His job is on the line after all...

“You’re looking shiny today!” Moonracer exclaimed.

Knockout slid her a warily suspicious look but did not respond as he walked past her, through his practice’s waiting room, and into his office.

But that wasn’t what surprised her the most. No, Moonracer was most taken aback that he had _actually shown up_ for their meeting to go over the track of Override’s upcoming race. She couldn’t remember the last time Knockout had been to work on time, let alone _early_.

Breakdown entered the waiting room, startling Moonracer.

“He actually waited for you this time?” She tapped her digit against her folded arms in thought. In the span of a single orn, things sure had changed quickly. 

Breakdown let out a laugh. “Not that hard when you have to go the speed limit.”

“Never mind the road, how did you even get him out of the berth?” 

“I don’t give him a choice,” Breakdown replied seriously. “The first day was rough, he was pretty hungover from that party.”

“So,” she glanced at the closed office door, lowering her vocaliser. “You’ve been making progress?”

He shook his helm. “Can’t cut addiction cold. Just gotta take it one day at a time.”

She felt a little guilty, but she hadn’t expected him to sound so knowledgeable.

“Well, you’re off to a good start, especially for him.” Moonracer smiled. “You’re welcome to join us in the office.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be back for him at the end of the day. Gonna run some errands.”

Moonracer bit the bottom of her mouthplate. “Haven’t seen home much?”

“No. Part of the job is to be there round the clock-he’s got a spare room.” Breakdown looked a little awkward. “He hasn’t told me to beat it or anything, but I was expecting more, uh, visitors. His place has been pretty empty. That normal?”

Moonracer rolled her optics. “Knockout may kiss a lot of mechs, but I haven’t seen him take too many home. Not that I keep watch, but what I do know about him is he _thrives_ on attention. The more he stirs up at parties, the more bots talk about him. Maybe he’s picky?”

“That’s some confidence,” Breakdown said with a grin. “Pretty intriguing, that’s for sure.” 

With a parting wave, Breakdown headed out and Moonracer joined Knockout in his office.

He stood with his back to her, hunched over the map on the screen of his office table making notes.

“What took you?” For the first time in forever, he didn’t snap at her. Who was this Breakdown and what were his powers!?

“Chatting with your bodyguard,” she replied nonchalantly, looking over the track map for Override’s race. “Sounds like you’ve had a change of spark.”

“Come again?” Knockout glanced over his shoulder.

“Compared to the party,” she explained. “You know, when you were insulting him?”

Knockout shrugged. “How can I turn down a free detailer?”

Moonracer raised a brow. “He good with your buffer?”

She couldn’t see his faceplate when he replied, “A maestro.”


	5. Café Society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout and Breakdown attend Override's big race.

“How do I look?” Knockout presented his pristine frame with flourish.

Knockout soaked up every klick it took for Breakdown to look him up and down.

“Perfect,” Breakdown concluded. For a sparkpulse, they met each other’s optics.

“Aren’t I always?” he retorted playfully.

As soon as Knockout strode into the arena’s most privileged skybox, all helms turned. Even in a room filled with Override’s entourage, some of Velocitron’s most elite, he was still able to make them gush over his beauty.

But as soon as Breakdown entered, he could hear the whispers.

While there were lots of bots like Breakdown posted all through the arena for security, he was the only one like himself in Override’s skybox. To say he stood out would have been an understatement. Breakdown had to pretend he hadn’t noticed as he found himself a place to stand off to the side.

Distracting Knockout, Moonracer greeted him and they made chitchat commenting on technical side of the race. But eventually, Knockout viewed the race mostly through glossed over optics. Override was expected to win again, her team was not exactly on the edge of their seats. 

During the race, more bots approached Knockout, attempting small talk in hopes of a discounted service if they exchanged memorable repartee, but all of it filtered out his mind, instead focusing on Breakdown’s reflection in the glass windows, his mind wandering all over that large frame of his... 

“Proud of me?” Knockout whispered to Breakdown as he approached him mid-race. He jiggled his glass in front of him. “It’s just pure energon.”

Breakdown’s chuckle was soft and Knockout couldn’t stop admiring his dazzling optics. “Oh good, wouldn't want you _knocked out_ tonight!”

“Was that… a _pun?_ ” A smile twitched on the corner of his mouthplate. 

“If you did, Override might _breakdown_ in anger!”

Breakdown’s puns were absolutely stupid, but Knockout lost himself in delighted laughter, Breakdown laughing boisterously with him.

“Must you draw attention to that eyesore of a beast?”

It was Racemaster, a wannabe star racer that Knockout had done some work on. 

“What did you say?” Knockout hissed. Rage burned inside at the indignation of _daring_ to give _him_ such a scrutinising look. His claws curved, a snarl forming. 

Racemaster chided, “This isn’t a _charity_ event.”

In an instant, Knockout smashed his glass on the floor, his claws seizing a yelping Racemaster by the pipes. 

“Breakdown, help!” Knockout barely felt Moonracer tugging on him. His vision could only focus on Racemaster crashing to his knee joints in the pain Knockout inflicted. 

But before Knockout could slice his pipes, Breakdown’s huge arm wrapped around his slim waist and hoisted him off the ground, freeing Racemaster. All the bots in the room gathered around in shock. 

“Look at you!” Racemaster jeered through pained gasps. “Your cripple barbarian wrangling you- everybot’s saying you’re losing your touch!”

“If I hear _you_ saying anything- you better hope you don't wind up on my operating table!!” Knockout spat before being hauled out the door.


	6. Castle Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After what went down at the race, Knockout and Breakdown return to the penthouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter meets week three's prompt 'home is my castle'. Thank you everyone for leaving comments. :)

“Why did you jump all over him back there?” Back at the penthouse, Breakdown stomped after Knockout who was heading for his hi-grade cabinet. “I thought you liked how I buff you up and now you’re starting fights that are gonna get me fired? They’re all gonna tell Override you were lushed!”

The bottle popped open and Knockout was about to pour it down when Breakdown swiped it right out of his servos.

“Cut it out.” He began dumping it down the drain.

“That hi-grade is worth more than your home,” Knockout snarled but made no grab for it. 

“So now you’re digging at me again?” Breakdown huffed. “You want me gone?”

As usual when overwhelmed, Knockout fled for the nearest open air. The view from his expansive balcony was overlooking Delta’s brilliantly lit downtown. Knockout scruitinised his world, longing to be down on the roads below racing as hard as his engine would let him, driving anywhere the roads led. 

Breakdown’s approach was not silent. 

Knockout sighed. “Did Override tell you why you need to watch me in my own home?” 

“To get you to work on time,” Breakdown said after a pause.

Knockout pointed up at his second balcony. “Did she tell you I fell?” Bitterness crept into his vocaliser. “Moonracer came looking for me the next day and found me wasted and passed out in the pool. I could have missed the second balcony and fell off the tower. If we were air-breathers, I’d have drowned.”

He slid to the ground, arms folded over his knee joints. Breakdown sat next to him.

“You’ve got everything a bot could want,” he said. “So what are you driving away from with every bottle?”

Having a mech Breakdown’s size this close to him, so close their shoulders touched, made every node in Knockout’s frame tingle and electrify. He’d never felt a rush like this anymore from being around bots- even during interfacing... which had become a chore. Just another tool to keep bots admiring Knockout. What did it even matter anymore if he was consistently drunk or not? His whole world was numb whether he was plastered or not.

“Driving?” Knockout’s laugh was harsh. “Do I look like I’m going anywhere? This home is not a castle, it’s an imprisoning tower.”

“We could go somewhere.”

These words reverberated through Knockout’s entire frame. He looked Breakdown straight in the optics. He was overwhelmed by how gentle they were. Knockout was so used to being around calculating bots like himself, it was a constant game. But he saw nothing like that behind Breakdown’s optics. Instead, there was a genuine warmth more refreshing than any drink in Knockout’s collection and he found it not just in his optics, but in everything about this mech. Was it just Knockout or did his spark pulse faster?

“I’ll follow you,” Breakdown said, his deep vocaliser melodic to Knockout’s audios. “If you want me to come.”

Smirking, Knockout stood up. “I would be tickled if you did.”


	7. Outer Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout leads Breakdown to the edge of the city.

They raced out of Delta’s downtown core and through the moving city. Knockout couldn’t recall the last time he’d pinned his speedometer this hard. He had forgotten how the euphoria of the wind rushing around him in a tight embrace was worth being sober.

Knockout glanced in his side mirrors. In the distance, Breakdown kept pace, never complaining about Knockout speeding ahead. 

With Breakdown following, Knockout didn’t stop until they reached the end of the city. Transforming, they climbed through halls and catwalks of the city’s massive engine until they found the world outside of Delta. Knockout marvelled in awe. It was as if the world had been sliced in half between the snowy ground and the burning rust-coloured sky. 

Leaning against the railing, both mechs watched in silence as the sun sank beneath the horizon. Humbled, Knockout soaked in every moment of the splendor until all of the colours faded, surrounding the two in darkness save for the pallid glow of the city behind them.

“It doesn’t matter how far I drive.” Knockout’s gaze was forlorn. “I’ll never get away.”

“Don’t need to tell me.” Breakdown sighed. “So why not just live it right? Why make yourself more miserable? Can’t tell me that hard stuff is helping any.”

“I have a reputation.”

“Yeah? So how does the hi-grade help?”

Knockout laughed. “You’re quite the insistent one. Be careful, or I might mistake you for caring about me.”

“Then quit mistaking.” 

The cocky smirk on Knockout’s faceplate slipped as he processed what Breakdown could’ve meant. Suddenly, Knockout was very aware of the heat from the city’s engine warming his back mingling with the chill of the cool, snowy air on his faceplate… yet also of the warmth from Breakdown himself.

Despair gripped Knockout. “My reputation prevents me from enjoying certain opportunities.”

“Only if you let it,” and that’s when Breakdown kissed him.

Knockout froze, shocked to his wildly pulsing spark. His digits flinched, reacting in instinctively to push Breakdown away. But heat and honesty both consumed him and Knockout pushed into the kiss, dominating Breakdown’s. His servos found Breakdown’s arms and he held tight, closing his optics so he could better lose himself to the freedom of the moment.

Parting, Knockout hesitated, unable to believe what just happened. 

“I should probably confide in you,” he said, searching for assurance in Breakdown’s optics. “But I have a type.”

Breakdown’s smile was so assuring, it drove Knockout crazy. His grip tightened. 

“So do I.”

A smile played on the corners of Knockout’s mouthplate. He placed a sharp digit to Breakdown’s chassis. “Me first. I can’t resist a real heavy duty mech.” 

In return, Breakdown’s servos ran gently along the biolights on his back. How could this mech make him melt to his touch without even using a buffer? 

“Well, I’ve got a thing for shiny, bossy racecars.” Breakdown’s chuckle was kind. 

Knockout's spark skipped a pulse. “Let’s continue this back at my place, shall we?”

“Only if you can beat me there.”


	8. Breaking Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Knockout comes to a realisation during a night with his bodyguard.

They crashed onto the berth.

Soaking in the entirety of Breakdown beneath him, thrill enraptured Knockout. His servos trembled as he ran his digits’ tips across Breakdown’s chassis.

Breakdown pulled him into soft kisses that escalated in fervor as their desire mounted- a desire that had been building longer than just tonight. 

Knockout greedily explored, servos finding their way between Breakdown’s legs where he gently pushed in. Watching a mech Breakdown’s size react and huff was exciting.

This desire sparked the moment they laid optics on one another. From then, the chemistry intensified, albeit unresolved, in all the intimate nights Breakdown wielded that buffer.

But as Knockout pinned Breakdown by the servos and slipped his glossa between Breakdown’s soft mouthplate, he knew what cultivated hadn’t stopped at physical curiosity.

Until Breakdown, Knockout had never known what loneliness was. 

Within Breakdown’s presence was a fulfillment Knockout didn’t even know existed. How could he had known that the emptiness drowning him everyday could be cured? Not by the one-night-stands or the bottles of hi-grade, but in the everyday laughter and happiness of a companion. 

So Knockout whispered dangerous nothings by Breakdown’s audials, taking glee in how he flustered, inducing him to transform out his size. 

Knockout’s spark thudded inside. 

Suddenly, he understood. Not only was he about to interface with a mech he was _truly_ attracted to, but with a mech he actually _liked_.

Shifting positions, Breakdown pushed into him from behind and although he was cautious, Knockout’s claws tore into his sheets and his optics dilated. He gasped. Feeling the sheer size of Breakdown shocked him despite his eager frame. But he flushed with a grin, already guiding Breakdown and taking control.

Knockout lost himself in the physical feeling of Breakdown’s powerful thrusts. He gripped Breakdown’s arms, his claws slicing in rhythm to their motion. Although energon was drawn, Breakdown groaned, working harder. Knockout arched, the lights on his back burning brighter.

As they indulged roughly through the night, their frames found a shared harmony and a new sensation overcame Knockout. He gasped, slicing the sheets with his claws, twisting beneath Breakdown and blushing furiously. His frame was reacting naturally to every movement and sound of Breakdown’s finish. 

While he, too, released, everything burst inside, filling Knockout with a fleeting yet beautiful moment where he had no power, and another mech could make him feel beyond himself. This immense pleasure was one like he had never known. 

He collapsed. 

Knockout’s chassis strained to vent air, his optics shuttering as the euphoria flowed through him. It was then he made a revolutionary discovery.

 _This_ was an overload. 

He looked at Breakdown now beside him.

Knockout thought he had come close with his toys. But no, not anything like _this_. Not even from a mech. Was it just because of Breakdown’s size?

The answer was clear.

“Lay with me tonight,” he purred. He looped his arms around Breakdown’s, resting his helm on his shoulder-plating.

Yes, Knockout knew the answer, and it satisfied him.


End file.
